


The Red Box

by RuntotheForest



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M, Idiots in Love, Romance, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:34:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29252304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuntotheForest/pseuds/RuntotheForest
Summary: What is that red box on Hardy's desk, and who is it for?  Ellie needs to know.
Relationships: Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Comments: 22
Kudos: 79





	The Red Box

**Author's Note:**

> For the Valentine's Day fic-a-thon. Enjoy!

DS Ellie Miller was becoming an expert at making an extra-strong cup of tea. She had determined the ideal water temperature, the perfect water-to-tea ratio, and the optimum amount of steeping time. As a finishing touch, she added 10 ML of milk – no more, no less - then she smiled with smug satisfaction. 

The mug was steaming, fresh, and ready to serve its intended purpose: to cajole DI Alec Hardy out of the apparently grey mood he was in, thereby allowing everyone else at CID to enjoy the Valentine’s Day decorations and desserts of which Hardy clearly wanted no part. In fact, after his morning arrival, he had taken one look at the red streamers and cardboard hearts, then rolled his eyes and lectured everyone unnecessarily against smearing chocolate on their paperwork. Afterward, he had promptly barricaded himself in his office, shutting his door without a word or a backward glance.

As usual, all eyes turned to Ellie to fix whatever ailed him. All of CID knew that Ellie was the only one who stood a chance when Hardy was in a mood. By late morning, she had been met with too many wordless glances to count, all of them imploring her to somehow make things right.

Armed with her fresh, perfectly made cuppa, Ellie knocked lightly on Hardy’s door. When he didn’t respond to her knock, she opened the door and peered around it. 

Hardy was at his desk, so focused on his task that he was seemingly oblivious to her presence.

“Hey,” she said, startling him so much that he jumped.

“Don’t you ever knock?” he groused, taking off his reading glasses and rubbing his eyes.

“I did knock. You just didn’t hear me.”

“Fine. What do you need?”

“Well, first, what are you working on?”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“Witness statements. Been reading ‘em all morning. I know there’s something I’m overlooking, but I can’t bloody figure out what it is.”

She walked toward his desk.

“Well, give your eyes and your brain a break. I made you a flawless cup of tea, and I will accept nothing less than the lavish praise I so obviously deserve for doing so.”

He smirked, but his eyes were warm and appreciative.

She went to set the tea on the side of his desk but was surprised to see that the space was already occupied by a medium-sized package wrapped in red paper, covered in hearts.

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up almost to the ceiling. A comically bright smile appeared on her face.

“Oh, who’s _this_ for?”

His face reddened as it suddenly dawned on him what she was referring to, and he snapped up the box, tossing it in a desk drawer and slamming the drawer shut with ferocity.

“Nobody,” he growled, pinching an earlobe self-consciously.

“Is it someone here in CID? Or do you have a cheeky date after work?” 

She chuckled as she teased. Hardy wouldn’t meet her eyes but folded his arms across his chest defiantly.

“Or did someone give it to _you_?” she continued, unmercifully. “Do you have an admirer?”

She realized then that she really wanted to know the answer to her questions, and this knowledge took a bit of the bite out of her teasing.

Hardy, however, was growing rapidly more indignant by the moment.

“Just leave me alone, Miller. Go back to your – your – disgusting drippy chocolate desserts.”

The bite seemed to reappear just as quickly as it had left.

“You’re just jealous because you can’t eat them.”

Hardy sniffed self-righteously.

“I could eat them if I wanted, I just choose not to. I may just as well inject sugar intravenously.”

“Hmm, I think I’ll go start myself a chocolate drip right now.”

“Fine. It’s your health…”

“…Says the only one of us who ever has health issues.” 

She assessed his tired eyes and the exhausted slump of his shoulders.

“Did you even sleep last night? You look terrible.”

“Don’t start, Miller.”

“If I don’t, who’s going to keep you from dropping dead?”

He glared at her without responding, arms still protectively crossed over his chest. The bright grin crept back onto Ellie’s face.

“Maybe the lucky recipient of your mystery box will help save you from yourself.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, Miller. You can go now.”

She gave a vexatious laugh and set the tea down on the now-abandoned spot at the edge of his desk.

“Fine. I’ll be sure to let everyone know that it’s best they steer clear of DI Hardy today, since someone seems to have pissed in his cereal this morning.”

She grinned mischievously, and he glowered at her.

“Enjoy your perfectly prepared tea.”

She turned on her heel and headed for the door.

“Miller,” he grumbled at her back, causing her to pause and look back over her shoulder. He was looking at her with unguarded, vulnerable eyes, which caused an unexpected flutter in her chest.

“Thanks for the tea,” he said more gently, almost-but-not-quite smiling.

“Any time,” she said breezily. “It’s what I do.”

Her grin was genuine as she walked through the door and began to pull it closed behind her.

“You can leave it open,” he casually instructed without looking up.

“Of course, _Sir_ ,” she said, somewhat patronizingly, a fond smile playing at her lips as she left his office.

\----------------

While Hardy’s improved mood was the source of much whispered gratitude in Ellie’s direction, Ellie’s own mood began to plunge as the day wore on. She found herself watching Hardy’s every move like a hawk, waiting for the reemergence of the red box, and oddly desperate to see where it ended up. 

She didn’t know why it suddenly mattered so much to her that Alec Hardy might have a sweetheart. She sat at her desk, analyzing the faces in CID, wondering if they were Hardy’s type. She couldn’t remember him showing any interest in anyone. He mostly just barked at all his DC’s and DS’s. In fact, Ellie herself was the only one who he ever had sustained conversations with. Perhaps he had been quietly worshipping DS Rand or DC Crowe ( _the only two possibilities_ , Ellie thought) from afar, and was using the box as an opening to start a conversation.

The day was coming to an end, and still the box had not left Hardy’s desk drawer. Ellie watched both Rand and Crowe leave for the day, and Hardy didn’t give either of them a glance, much less a red box.

Ellie began to consider the possibility that it wasn’t someone at CID. Maybe it was that cute-ish server (Janice? Jenny?) at the café who always seemed to twist her hair seductively around her finger when Hardy was placing his order. Ellie had thought he had been typically blind to Janice/Jenny’s obvious (to Ellie, at least) attempts to attract his attention, but maybe she had just misread Hardy’s response. Or worse – he _had_ noticed Janice/Jenny and had gone back to talk to her on his own.

The thought made Ellie’s face flush with an irrational anger that she didn’t quite understand.

Ellie watched everyone but Hardy leave, which was a common occurrence, but staying late on Valentine’s Day didn’t seem like something he would do if he had a hot date. Curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself standing in the doorway of his office.

“Everyone’s gone, as they should be,” she announced to him. He was staring at something on the computer screen in front of him but sat up when Ellie entered. He pulled off his glasses and ran a hand over his face.

“Right,” he said. “It’s late.”

“No big plans for tonight?” Ellie prodded. “It being Valentine’s Day and all.”

He snorted.

“Valentine’s Day is a manufactured pseudo-holiday, meant to make single people feel terrible about themselves. I don’t participate in such nonsense.”

Ellie laughed.

“And yet, I saw you with a festively wrapped box to give to someone I’m _assuming_ you’d like to be your Valentine.”

“God no,” he said vehemently.

“God no, you don’t have a box, or god no, you’re not going to ask anyone to be your Valentine?”

“You know I have a bloody box, Miller,“ he grumbled, scowling moodily, “but I wouldn’t put that type of pressure on anyone. Society puts too much pressure on this bloody day as it is.”

“Fine. So then, who’s the box for?”

“Why do you want to know?”

She gaped at him, suddenly unable to think of a suitable response or a snappy comeback.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted, a bit sheepishly. She watched Hardy’s scowl soften at her admission and become something resembling that same almost-smile she had seen before.

He opened the drawer and took out the red box, with its collage of hearts in various hues of pink. He pushed himself up from his desk, and walked toward Ellie, box in hand.

“It’s for you,” he said softly, awkwardly thrusting the box toward her. “It’s chocolate.”

Her eyes widened as she tentatively took the box from him.

“Why – why are you giving this to me?” she stammered.

Hardy blinked back at her, his wide eyes matching hers.

“Because you love chocolate.”

“No, I know that – I mean, everyone knows that! But why are you giving me a Valentine’s Day gift?”

Hardy shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Because you’re my partner. And my, uh, friend. I just thought you might like them.” His brow wrinkled into a frown. “Was I wrong?”

He looked chastised, like a schoolboy who had failed an exam. Ellie’s eyes searched his for any signs of jest or ulterior motives but found none.

“No,” she said, but only a whisper came out. “You’re not wrong.”

She cleared her throat.

“But you don’t give me things. Is this part of that ‘supportive boss’ nonsense?”

His sigh was dismissive, yet self-conscious.

“If that’s what you need it to be.”

He threw up his hands and sighed again.

“Ellie, it’s just a box of chocolates.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Did you just call me Ellie?”

“Bloody hell.”

He turned away, walking back toward his desk. She impulsively hurried to him and grabbed his shoulder from behind. He stiffened, then stopped, turning back toward her.

“Why did you get this for me?” she demanded, holding the red box underneath his nose.

He just stared at her, not trusting his own words.

“Do you fancy me, is that it?”

His eyes slightly widened, and he looked away. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again when the words caught in his throat.

Her heart was pounding so hard that she was certain he could hear it. 

“You do,” she breathed, incredulously, lowering the box away from his face. “You _do_ fancy me.”

He looked at his shoes and a pink blush crept up his cheeks.

“If that isn’t the sweetest thing,” she whispered.

He rolled his eyes.

“Oh, shut up, Miller. Don’t patronize me.”

He turned away again, and again she reached up and grabbed his shoulder.

“What now, Miller? Are you planning to mock – “

She stopped his thought with a brief kiss pressed gently to his lips. She heard his breathing stop, then she rocked back on her toes and looked at him apprehensively.

His tongue ran across his teeth, and his eyes darted between her eyes and her lips.

“That is not what I expected,” he said, and his voice was low and raspy.

She couldn’t read him, and she started to worry that her impulsive act was a mistake.

“What _did_ you expect?” she asked breathlessly.

“Definitely not that.”

He smiled then, and it lit up his face and reached all the way to his eyes. Ellie had an urge to trace the resulting crinkles at the edges of his eyes, but she held herself still. The smile quickly faded, but she still saw traces of it in his eyes.

“You kissed me,” he said, unnecessarily.

“You gave me a box with bloody hearts all over it. And you called me Ellie without any sort of accompanying tragedy. It seemed only fitting.”

He cleared his throat.

“So you’re not opposed to, uh, _this_?” He gestured at nothing.

Her heart fluttered in her chest.

“You really fancy me?”

He gave a quick, almost embarrassed nod.

“I do. Have done for ages.”

“ _Ages?_ ”

He nodded again. 

“So why do this now?” She held up the box. “Why not ages ago?”

He looked at her earnestly, his eyes reflecting so much that was unspoken between them.

“Neither of us were ready ages ago. I needed our friendship to be strong enough that it could withstand how I felt about you, even if you didn’t feel the same about me.” He chuckled. “I cared for you long before you even _liked_ me, and I was content then, if not happy. I thought that if you decided you didn’t want this, I could just as easily stay content the way things were.”

His smiled was lopsided and hopeful.

“But I’d much rather be happy.”

She looked intently at him then; awkwardly handsome, with expressive brown eyes incapable of shielding what was in his heart.

“Alec,” she started, and he groaned when he heard his name come from her lips. She raised an eyebrow. “Wait, I kissed you, but you still don’t like it when I say your name?”

He shook his head, smiling.

“Quite the contrary. It sounds like bloody music when you say it.”

His hands cupped both of her cheeks, and he drew her face to his. Their lips met in a soft and warm caress before slowly drawing apart.

Her hand fluttered to her chest.

“What do we do now?” she asked breathlessly.

“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I didn’t think it through that far.”

“What? Seriously?”

“No, I thought I’d either chicken out and not give you the box, or you’d completely reject me. I didn’t plan for anything but crushing regret and self-loathing.”

She laughed, which made his face brighten instantly.

“Come and have pizza with me and the boys tonight.” She smiled warmly. “Let’s just keep it simple and natural, and we can see what happens from there. Does that sound all right?”

He nodded, the lump forming in his throat keeping him from responding verbally. A wicked glint appeared in her eyes and she held up the red box.

“But don’t think for a moment that I’m sharing my chocolate with you.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Please don’t. I would never eat that crap anyway.”

“Well, of course you wouldn’t. That’s why you’re so bloody thin.”

“Oh god, not _this_ again. Just because I choose not to put that garbage in my mouth doesn’t mean – “

She put her finger to his lips.

“Stop talking,” she said, putting her hand behind his neck and pulling his head down to hers. The kiss was deeper and more intense this time. When they broke apart, his eyes appeared somewhat glazed, and he looked at her with something akin to wonder. Ellie caught her breath, smoothed her hair, and wiped the smeared lipstick off the edges of her lips.

“I’ll take that over chocolate any day,” she said, and walked out of his office.

**Author's Note:**

> Love has many shapes and sizes and forms. May your life be filled with whichever kind of love makes you happy. <3


End file.
